Last Look
by FandomsMJ
Summary: Henry knew it was over the moment he hit the floor. When asked if he had any last requests, he only had one.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Bendy and the Ink Machine or related characters.

 _A/N: Originally I was going to hold of on writing/posting any BatIM fics until the game was completed, but this idea would not leave me alone. Besides, we know something like this is extremely unlikely to happen in the game, so it can't be 'disproved' or anything. Though, some details might be wrong, since in this fic, the "Ink Demon" that chases you around the studio isn't Joey Drew as many people think, but simply Bendy. (Though I'm still hoping in the game it turns out the Bendy that's been chasing Henry is Joey.)_

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Henry knew it was over the moment he hit the floor. His entire body ached and blood was rushing from the gashes Bendy's inky claws had left in his stomach. The former animator didn't even try to get up as the warped form of his first creation loomed over him. The inky, skeletal monster - not at all the small plump form Henry had drawn and animated so many years ago - knelt down, his ink smeared face so close to Henry's own. The permanent grin seemed to widen if at all possible and he hissed, "Any last requests, old man?"

He was dying, even if the creature didn't kill him now, he would die of his wounds soon. So, Henry did what he would have done if the inky creature hadn't been trying to attack him when they first met. "Just one..." he croaked as a weak, trembling hand reached up and wiped the thick black ink out of Bendy's face, revealing two oval shaped eyes with a little slice cut out to be the highlight. Big eyes, to go with a big grin. He smiled, even as Bendy's eyes squinted slightly in confusion, "One last look... at my little devil darlin'."

Bendy's eyes widened in shock, a small little dribble of ink rushing to cover one of his eyes again. Henry managed to wipe it away with his thumb, before his hand fell back to the ink-stained wooden floor. Slowly, tired eyes slid shut. His chest rose, fell, and never rose again.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bendy and the Ink Machine or related characters.

A/N: Originally I wasn't going to do another chapter, but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. It's late and I'm tired, so it might not be as great as the first chapter. I might end up re-writing this one.

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Bendy was still there when Boris found Henry. The ink demon didn't know if the 'perfect' toon's whine was in response to the sight of him, or of the human animator lying dead in his arms. His face was still mostly cleared off, save for a few little dribbles of ink that had run down his face, allowing his face - his full face- to be the last thing Henry ever saw.

 _"One last look... at my little devil darlin'"_ Henry's last words echoed in the warped toon's mind. Bendy had come into the world, born from the Ink Machine, not as the form his creator had given him but as a less than stellar version of it. A failure in Joey's mind. He could still remember the man's angry voice, his swearing at yet another failure. Bendy had felt so angry, so hurt. It wasn't his fault he'd been made this way! It wasn't his fault he wasn't Joey's ideal creation! Yet he'd been punished for it. Tortured, put back through that dreaded machine time and time again. With each time his form grew more and more warped. Less like the character on the screen and more like the monster he was now.

He'd grown tired of Joey's ranting, of his hate, so Bendy had taken matters into his own hands. He'd dealt with Joey and pushed everyone else away too. He didn't want to be hurt anymore. He didn't want to be rejected. He'd rather people hate him out of fear than out of disappointment. When Henry had come - not long after Bendy had dealt with Joey once and for all - he hadn't goten his hopes up. He expected the same thing of the animator that he did everyone else. Rather than go through the pain of rejection again, Bendy hadn't given Henry the chance to hurt him. And yet... despite all of that, Henry hadn't rejected him. Even when he was dying all he wanted was to just get a good look at him - a real look at him without the ink hiding the majority of his face. Bendy had made a grave mistake, and he hadn't realized it until now.

Raising his eyes from Henry's pale face to look at the still frighted Boris, Bendy asked, "What have I done?"


End file.
